Post by MasterEvil on May 26, 2017 16:26:03 GMT
act 1
act 2
We are only five days away from what could be FSW’s biggest event of twenty-seventeen and we happen to be inside a classroom of some kind. Approximately nine foot wide, fifteen foot long and thirteen foot tall in size. There are four rows of three untouched desks, the back and side walls are all covered with posters about mathematics and Shakespeare. At the front of the class is an oak desk – with a pile of paper, a ballpoint pen, a black chunky pen and small remote of some kind – while behind it is an interactive whiteboard, with a blankly white screen on it, and a basic whiteboard right next to it. Sitting on the edge of the desk is none other than the somewhat deranged Otaki.
Her purple hair organised into some kind of Asian bun at the back while she was wearing some kind of teacher’s uniform, the beige tight-fitting top revealing quite a lot of her cleavage while the matching colour and equally tight-fitting miniskirt is so short that even walking would cause the lowest third of her dark violet panties to be revealed, with a pair of black high heel boots…does this competitor have some kind of plan for her fiancée after finishing this promo or something? Either yes or no the Purple Haired Dynamo gives us a friendly smile the very moment she spots us.
“Welcome to class everybody, my name is Miss Otaki, but I don’t mind being referred to as just Otaki. But today the subject of our class is…”
After introducing herself the Emo Princess made sure her glasses covered her eyes before getting off the desk. Her right hand clutches onto the inked chunky pen and took a few steps towards the board, failing to notice her skirt raising up with each step she took, before beginning to write eight letters onto the board.
“C-H-A-M-P-I-O-N…Champion.”
After writing down the letters Otaki spins around, leans back against wall beside the whiteboard and smiles towards us.
“What is a Champion? A Champion could be a way one would describe a person who would throw themselves down to the ground time and time again to either defend or support to the simple cause of somebody else. Like Sir Lancelot was Guinevere’s Champion to defend her from execution. A champion could also be someone who manages to surpass any and every rival they’ve face to accomplish pure greatness. Like how Red has to overcome not just Blue but also the entire Elite Four to become Pokémon Champion. But how can anyone tell who is a Champion? Could it be the way that said ‘Champion’ carries themselves? Could it be through some kind of knighthood? A grand announcement perhaps? Or it is simply having a golden object in their hands?”
While asking her questions the milky skinned woman takes her steps toward the desk and once the twenty-two year old arrives there she places her pen down on it. Afterwards, most likely to empathise her final question, pulls out the defunct APW North American Championship from underneath the desk before neatly placing it down on said desk.
“So does physically having the FSW Championship in his hands make Hatchet Gully the FSW Champion? Who has he defended and supported other than himself? Whenever has he actually surpassed anyone…you know…actually beat someone worth beating in the ring instead of, I don’t know, relying on some wannabe Britney Spears to jump a man who was already battered and bruised from an intense match beforehand? Don’t know? Neither do I. So, class, this guy is definitely not a real Champion. Hell, the only reason he’s in such an undeserving situation is because he not only assaulted but injured the former FSW Champion Jeremy Warren, right after I defeated him.
So does crime pay?
Is that a good lesson?
No it isn’t, not at all, if anything the fact that Gully has failed to defeat me even once simply proves how incompetent he is…not just at the moment but also as a Champion if he somehow steals the belt once again.
What was that? I’ve yet to defeat him either?
You won’t be the first to think that…”
With those final words the smallest person that could walk out of FSW’s Supershow as Champion reaches for the remote and picks it up before pointing at the blank white screen and pressing a button. The screen brightens into life as mere moments later the following tweet appears upon it:
“Clearly his memory is as good as his cleanliness…which is meant in every way imaginable…”
Vilely escapes The Emo Princess’ lips as she presses a separate button that changes the tweet into a video clip dated the twenty-sixth of September last year.
Instead of anything more, with her eyes staying on us, the Purple Haired Dynamo smiles a little more as she presses the same button to get the video replaced with another one that possesses the same date on the bottom right corner:
“Now you see? I have defeated Hatchet Gully before. I’ve even gave him the chance to get the upper hand by offering him a stipulation that would benefit his cowardly ways…yet he is foolish enough to say no. What was that about ‘cowardly’? Isn’t it simple? While I was grateful for his niceness back on that night, Hatchet Gully – the guy who thinks he has the power – is a coward. Straight and simple. What? You think teacher is lying? What a cute attempt of a joke, student. The only reason he’s getting this opportunity is because, being fed up of his own failure at Stranglemania, he attacked the previous Champion.
Now I can’t slate him too much, for I’ve done stuff like that and even more to get the Title that sits on this here desk…but there is a difference between a cowardly bully like Stans and a god damn Predator. What is the difference, class? That lesson is best taught over at the Staples Center. For that’ll be the same exact time something dear Gully will learn an extra valuable lesson, for letting his dear Ashley taint my hard-earned victory. That lesson…why, even on his best day, he will never beat me, even on my very worst day.”
While she is indeed speaking with the tone expected from a teacher it also seems that the deranged one is straight up looking down upon the most violent potential Champion entering the night, as if not considering him as big of a threat as many should. However the moment ‘taint’ hisses out the young woman’s lips the look of pure venom is seething from her eyes, as if – at any moment – she would pounce at us like crazed madwoman. Clearly we’re not the only ones to notice this as Otaki herself takes a deep breath after saying her words before smiling rather innocently.
“But we cannot forget about the other two that wants to be Champion, eh? Creed…what makes Creed a Champion? That question is a lot harder with him than the other two, for he has held Championship gold before in EWC. Yes it was two years ago but while the mind can fade away…the body remembers both the feeling of success and what it had to do to accomplish said success, hence why he is currently undefeated here in FSW. But before I let people think that he is definitely what I should call a ‘Champion’, class, there is something I need to remind you all.
The United States Championship is nothing more than a Joker’s Championship and anyone who’ve ever held it are only Champion of Clowns.
Oh? Would my words offend Creed? I wouldn’t be surprised if they did. After all, I literally just belittled the only piece of success he has to his name. Yet this upcoming Sunday we could end up having Creed leave the building holding Championship gold, just like he did exactly two years and twelve days ago, but this isn’t North Carolina and I am definitely not some Floyd ‘Sheriff’ Shooter. Yes, class, I did do a little bit of homework myself as all the great military minds – from the First Duke of Wellington at Waterloo to Oda Nobunaga during the Sengoku period of Japan – all know that there is no such thing as an end to one’s learning. And if one would apply the Dota 2’s Hand of Midas to my brain they’d get enough gold to buy an island.
So when I say that, right now, the FSW Champion is ten times more prestigious than the US Title has ever been then you should know that it is a damn fact. Said fact that I’ll prove over, and over, and over again if that is what it takes to not only end my second undefeated streak in the same amount of FSW episodes but also finally win the very Championship I’ve been after since entering ECW ten days and thirteen months ago.”
While the voice she had for most her words seem to be a fusion of patronising and arrogance, it seems to be near the end of her very words that her voice adopts a tone of desire of being a Champion, frustration of her past failures and determination of making her latest shot count. The second of these three emotions flaring up most brightly as she grabs the pen off the desk and throw it angrily towards the door before running both her hands through her hair while taking a deep breath.
“You heard me right, class. While people like Creed only had to wait three months for his US Championship shot, let alone a shot at the FSW Title, I have spent over a year clawing and scratching against everyone set against me for this opportunity. I’ve spilt blood, sweat and tears for so long and right now is the biggest – and potentially final – chance I have to finally win it. And guess what? We’re in Hollywood and don’t Hollywood sure love the story of a zero to hero more than some Mister Perfect flick? Sure, Creed is back to get a ‘career he’d always dreamed of’ but this Sunday is not his night and until he knows why he will never be Champion, especially at my expense.”
The seriousness of Otaki’s tone of voice are equally matched by both the look in her eyes and her body language as the milky skinned woman’s hand are still in her hair. After saying her final few words The Emo Princess’s lowers her head down. Mere moments later a snicker escapes the teacher’s lips as she raises her head back up to reveal that her scowl has turned into in a grin of some kind but also that her irises have changed into red while her facial cheeks has three redden cuts trailing down each side.
“Nonononono…at our expense. For before them I was nothing. Not even alive or dead…just nothing. And now, together as one, us martyrs have not only achieved victory, but have also taken away the undefeated streak of one Jeremy Warren. Something that Mister Gully, Mister Creed and Mister Kingston cannot say…”
Otaki’s whispered out words fell down to giggles as the twenty-two year old hands finally leave her purple hair and stroke down their respective side of the young Brit’s face before the tips of her fingers reach the midway point of her cuts. First they stroke the cuts, then they move in a manner that looks like they’re trying to dig into her cuts before suddenly stopping as the palm of each hand gently rest themselves on their respective cheek. Blood slowly trickling down the gaps between each finger.
“But talking about Mister Kingston…what makes Mister ‘No Nicknames Need’ a Champion? He isn’t selfless enough to defend anyone but himself. He also has yet to achieve anything outside getting his job application accepted to becoming an accountant before even attempting to break into wrestling as a late bloomer. Yes, class, we have been looking into Stephen’s past. For, like we previously pointed out, it always wise to do your homework and that was what did made sure to do last week when we got a front row seat to such a fabulous exhibition from Stephen himself. Took mental note after mental note over every nook, cranny and every little bit of pixie dust in between, just to keep a heads-up over those we consider as a threat.
Yes, we consider Stephen Kingston as a massive threat to our chance of success, for while he has only managed to defeat mister robot, ‘a stoner, a braindead rookie and a Criss Angel groupie’ so far…but he has been so entertaining to us. With his overconfidence, his immense obsession with making himself look good and his overtremendous ego. Hm, is overtremendous a word? Not sure. We know! Overtremendous is now a word, for we have declared it to be…but back to Mister Kingston. For his overtremendous ego could simply be hiding an equally overtremendous amount of pure unadulterated skill…or talent…or skill. After all, for a late bloomer, Stephen has managed to do quite well for himself with such an undefeated streak, especially how he is one of the least experienced people with the chance to walk out FSW Champion…”
With those words trailing out her mouth the Purple Haired Dynamo slowly reaches down for the remote. Gradually lifting the device towards the board on the left she presses a button that replaces the previous video clip with a screenshot from a page on the official EWC website:
“But does Stephen has any of the qualities any of those three mentioned holders have? Does he have the power and size of Derek? The blood and legacy of Jason? Or even the cunning and intelligence of Amis Shelton? Not sure about the last one but he is definitely lacking in the other two categories. Though even if he had all the qualities of them three – as well as the qualities of every Champion in Extreme Wrestling Corporation history – it’ll still not be enough, nowhere near enough, to be able to defeat us. If EWC’s former Television Champion Ace King couldn’t defeat us six days ago then there is no chance in hell Stephen has in ever even merely hoping to do such a thing in five days’ time.”
With blood covered hands the woman is a seductive teacher uniform leans toward us and move both her bloodied hands. Slowly she reaches out towards us, even stepping around the desk to get closer to us, before suddenly snapping into a complete halt. The only movement that follows this being a slow smirk crackling onto her blood stained face.
“Does it sound like arrogance? Ignorance? An ego trip? Maybe it is…or maybe it could me being confident? Self-assured? Or maybe that, together as one, we know that we have what it takes to leave Hollywood as FSW Champion. For, unlike the previous holder of the belt, we are not so altruistic or ‘a tad too trusting.’
Together we are wise. Together we are strong.
We are vile. We are venomous.
Destructive. Toxic.
Together we are a plague and, no matter how hard he tries, the mere man calling himself Stephen Kingston will simply fall to our outbreak.
For we will survive them all.
We will conquer them all.
We will climb above them all.
And we’ll stand tall as FSW Champion…
And why is that? Why can’t Mister Gully beat us on our worst day? Why won’t Mister Creed succeed at our expense? And why doesn’t Mister Kingston have a prayer of leaving Hollywood with his head held high?”
Her rapidly spoken words suddenly snap off into abrupt silence as with lightning quick reflexes Otaki launches herself at the other board. With so much momentum in fact that she almost found herself headbutting said board. However she manages to stop in time before spinning around to face us in a way that lands her down on one knee as her left hand drifts upwards so that her index finger could point at the letters she written on there a while ago.
“THIS IS WHY!”
Shouts out the Purple Haired Dynamo’s lips as in the very next moment she drops down to both knees and move both her hands to be in front of herself in an almost praying kind of manner.
“Champion. What makes a Champion? Together we support and defend the cause and belief of each other. Together we fight and overcome every rival that stands in our way. And another thing that we have, that nobody that has previously held the Title – let along the three that stand in our way in Hollywood – have…determination and dedication. Our determination is limitless. Our dedication is unprecedented. And we are willing to fight and die over, and over, and over again just for one moment…
One damn moment as FSW Champion. No one that has previously held the belt had the dedication to take the Title to new heights but that is what us martyrs will make bloody sure to do after we finally win it in the middle of the STAPLES Center. Almost like the perfect ending to an old Hollywood blockbuster, the struggler finally turns their life full circle and at last taste the success that has been evading them for so long…
But this ain’t no fairy tale…for this Sunday will consist of three men – Mister Gully, Mister Creed and Mister Kingston – trying to stop our infestation but falling to the endemic known as us martyrs as we not only take the belt that belongs to us, but also infect the entire FSW with OUR PLAGUE!”
Those final two words were screamed out by The Emo Princess as her arms wrap themselves around her short but curvy frame in a python like manner. Sluggishly Otaki makes her way up to her feet before leaning against the classroom door to breath rather raggedly for a few moment before panting quite roughly as she looks over towards us.
“Class dismissed.”
Coldly departs The Highlight of the Night’s lips as in the very next second the door swings open, causing the short woman to fall out of the room. We get up from our seat and rush over to check on the Englishwoman, only to have the door violently slam shut right in front of our face with the handle jammed by, out of all things, a single red rose.
Her purple hair organised into some kind of Asian bun at the back while she was wearing some kind of teacher’s uniform, the beige tight-fitting top revealing quite a lot of her cleavage while the matching colour and equally tight-fitting miniskirt is so short that even walking would cause the lowest third of her dark violet panties to be revealed, with a pair of black high heel boots…does this competitor have some kind of plan for her fiancée after finishing this promo or something? Either yes or no the Purple Haired Dynamo gives us a friendly smile the very moment she spots us.
“Welcome to class everybody, my name is Miss Otaki, but I don’t mind being referred to as just Otaki. But today the subject of our class is…”
After introducing herself the Emo Princess made sure her glasses covered her eyes before getting off the desk. Her right hand clutches onto the inked chunky pen and took a few steps towards the board, failing to notice her skirt raising up with each step she took, before beginning to write eight letters onto the board.
“C-H-A-M-P-I-O-N…Champion.”
After writing down the letters Otaki spins around, leans back against wall beside the whiteboard and smiles towards us.
“What is a Champion? A Champion could be a way one would describe a person who would throw themselves down to the ground time and time again to either defend or support to the simple cause of somebody else. Like Sir Lancelot was Guinevere’s Champion to defend her from execution. A champion could also be someone who manages to surpass any and every rival they’ve face to accomplish pure greatness. Like how Red has to overcome not just Blue but also the entire Elite Four to become Pokémon Champion. But how can anyone tell who is a Champion? Could it be the way that said ‘Champion’ carries themselves? Could it be through some kind of knighthood? A grand announcement perhaps? Or it is simply having a golden object in their hands?”
While asking her questions the milky skinned woman takes her steps toward the desk and once the twenty-two year old arrives there she places her pen down on it. Afterwards, most likely to empathise her final question, pulls out the defunct APW North American Championship from underneath the desk before neatly placing it down on said desk.
“So does physically having the FSW Championship in his hands make Hatchet Gully the FSW Champion? Who has he defended and supported other than himself? Whenever has he actually surpassed anyone…you know…actually beat someone worth beating in the ring instead of, I don’t know, relying on some wannabe Britney Spears to jump a man who was already battered and bruised from an intense match beforehand? Don’t know? Neither do I. So, class, this guy is definitely not a real Champion. Hell, the only reason he’s in such an undeserving situation is because he not only assaulted but injured the former FSW Champion Jeremy Warren, right after I defeated him.
So does crime pay?
Is that a good lesson?
No it isn’t, not at all, if anything the fact that Gully has failed to defeat me even once simply proves how incompetent he is…not just at the moment but also as a Champion if he somehow steals the belt once again.
What was that? I’ve yet to defeat him either?
You won’t be the first to think that…”
With those final words the smallest person that could walk out of FSW’s Supershow as Champion reaches for the remote and picks it up before pointing at the blank white screen and pressing a button. The screen brightens into life as mere moments later the following tweet appears upon it:
“Clearly his memory is as good as his cleanliness…which is meant in every way imaginable…”
Vilely escapes The Emo Princess’ lips as she presses a separate button that changes the tweet into a video clip dated the twenty-sixth of September last year.
Hachet jumps down and tries to help up Otaki, she thanks him but Chris Maverick dives past her with a vicious End Your Life on Hatchet. He stumbles onto the ropes and Maverick easily pushes him over. He stands on the ropes taunting him.
ELIMINATION: HATCHET GULLY BY CHRIS MAVERICK
ELIMINATION: HATCHET GULLY BY CHRIS MAVERICK
Instead of anything more, with her eyes staying on us, the Purple Haired Dynamo smiles a little more as she presses the same button to get the video replaced with another one that possesses the same date on the bottom right corner:
Polly is worn down from the beating she took early. But Otaki isn't faring better. The ladies trade blow for blow, punch for punch, spinning heel kick for spinning heel kick. Being in the ring for over 55 minutes has taken it's toll and Polly is attempting the Fist of the Fae but she lacks the strength to knock out Otaki. She takes the hit and this the KAMEHAMEHA!! Polly stumbles back and falls over the top rope. The crowd explodes as Otaki almost passes out. Confetti falls as “Viridian City” hits the PA system.
Nina Dobrev: HERE IS YOUR WINNER OF THE 2016 RUMBLE IN THE BRONX, REPRESENTING FUTURE STARS OF WRESTLING AND IN THE MAIN EVENT OF WRESTLEFEST! OTAKI!
Nina Dobrev: HERE IS YOUR WINNER OF THE 2016 RUMBLE IN THE BRONX, REPRESENTING FUTURE STARS OF WRESTLING AND IN THE MAIN EVENT OF WRESTLEFEST! OTAKI!
“Now you see? I have defeated Hatchet Gully before. I’ve even gave him the chance to get the upper hand by offering him a stipulation that would benefit his cowardly ways…yet he is foolish enough to say no. What was that about ‘cowardly’? Isn’t it simple? While I was grateful for his niceness back on that night, Hatchet Gully – the guy who thinks he has the power – is a coward. Straight and simple. What? You think teacher is lying? What a cute attempt of a joke, student. The only reason he’s getting this opportunity is because, being fed up of his own failure at Stranglemania, he attacked the previous Champion.
Now I can’t slate him too much, for I’ve done stuff like that and even more to get the Title that sits on this here desk…but there is a difference between a cowardly bully like Stans and a god damn Predator. What is the difference, class? That lesson is best taught over at the Staples Center. For that’ll be the same exact time something dear Gully will learn an extra valuable lesson, for letting his dear Ashley taint my hard-earned victory. That lesson…why, even on his best day, he will never beat me, even on my very worst day.”
While she is indeed speaking with the tone expected from a teacher it also seems that the deranged one is straight up looking down upon the most violent potential Champion entering the night, as if not considering him as big of a threat as many should. However the moment ‘taint’ hisses out the young woman’s lips the look of pure venom is seething from her eyes, as if – at any moment – she would pounce at us like crazed madwoman. Clearly we’re not the only ones to notice this as Otaki herself takes a deep breath after saying her words before smiling rather innocently.
“But we cannot forget about the other two that wants to be Champion, eh? Creed…what makes Creed a Champion? That question is a lot harder with him than the other two, for he has held Championship gold before in EWC. Yes it was two years ago but while the mind can fade away…the body remembers both the feeling of success and what it had to do to accomplish said success, hence why he is currently undefeated here in FSW. But before I let people think that he is definitely what I should call a ‘Champion’, class, there is something I need to remind you all.
The United States Championship is nothing more than a Joker’s Championship and anyone who’ve ever held it are only Champion of Clowns.
Oh? Would my words offend Creed? I wouldn’t be surprised if they did. After all, I literally just belittled the only piece of success he has to his name. Yet this upcoming Sunday we could end up having Creed leave the building holding Championship gold, just like he did exactly two years and twelve days ago, but this isn’t North Carolina and I am definitely not some Floyd ‘Sheriff’ Shooter. Yes, class, I did do a little bit of homework myself as all the great military minds – from the First Duke of Wellington at Waterloo to Oda Nobunaga during the Sengoku period of Japan – all know that there is no such thing as an end to one’s learning. And if one would apply the Dota 2’s Hand of Midas to my brain they’d get enough gold to buy an island.
So when I say that, right now, the FSW Champion is ten times more prestigious than the US Title has ever been then you should know that it is a damn fact. Said fact that I’ll prove over, and over, and over again if that is what it takes to not only end my second undefeated streak in the same amount of FSW episodes but also finally win the very Championship I’ve been after since entering ECW ten days and thirteen months ago.”
While the voice she had for most her words seem to be a fusion of patronising and arrogance, it seems to be near the end of her very words that her voice adopts a tone of desire of being a Champion, frustration of her past failures and determination of making her latest shot count. The second of these three emotions flaring up most brightly as she grabs the pen off the desk and throw it angrily towards the door before running both her hands through her hair while taking a deep breath.
“You heard me right, class. While people like Creed only had to wait three months for his US Championship shot, let alone a shot at the FSW Title, I have spent over a year clawing and scratching against everyone set against me for this opportunity. I’ve spilt blood, sweat and tears for so long and right now is the biggest – and potentially final – chance I have to finally win it. And guess what? We’re in Hollywood and don’t Hollywood sure love the story of a zero to hero more than some Mister Perfect flick? Sure, Creed is back to get a ‘career he’d always dreamed of’ but this Sunday is not his night and until he knows why he will never be Champion, especially at my expense.”
The seriousness of Otaki’s tone of voice are equally matched by both the look in her eyes and her body language as the milky skinned woman’s hand are still in her hair. After saying her final few words The Emo Princess’s lowers her head down. Mere moments later a snicker escapes the teacher’s lips as she raises her head back up to reveal that her scowl has turned into in a grin of some kind but also that her irises have changed into red while her facial cheeks has three redden cuts trailing down each side.
“Nonononono…at our expense. For before them I was nothing. Not even alive or dead…just nothing. And now, together as one, us martyrs have not only achieved victory, but have also taken away the undefeated streak of one Jeremy Warren. Something that Mister Gully, Mister Creed and Mister Kingston cannot say…”
Otaki’s whispered out words fell down to giggles as the twenty-two year old hands finally leave her purple hair and stroke down their respective side of the young Brit’s face before the tips of her fingers reach the midway point of her cuts. First they stroke the cuts, then they move in a manner that looks like they’re trying to dig into her cuts before suddenly stopping as the palm of each hand gently rest themselves on their respective cheek. Blood slowly trickling down the gaps between each finger.
“But talking about Mister Kingston…what makes Mister ‘No Nicknames Need’ a Champion? He isn’t selfless enough to defend anyone but himself. He also has yet to achieve anything outside getting his job application accepted to becoming an accountant before even attempting to break into wrestling as a late bloomer. Yes, class, we have been looking into Stephen’s past. For, like we previously pointed out, it always wise to do your homework and that was what did made sure to do last week when we got a front row seat to such a fabulous exhibition from Stephen himself. Took mental note after mental note over every nook, cranny and every little bit of pixie dust in between, just to keep a heads-up over those we consider as a threat.
Yes, we consider Stephen Kingston as a massive threat to our chance of success, for while he has only managed to defeat mister robot, ‘a stoner, a braindead rookie and a Criss Angel groupie’ so far…but he has been so entertaining to us. With his overconfidence, his immense obsession with making himself look good and his overtremendous ego. Hm, is overtremendous a word? Not sure. We know! Overtremendous is now a word, for we have declared it to be…but back to Mister Kingston. For his overtremendous ego could simply be hiding an equally overtremendous amount of pure unadulterated skill…or talent…or skill. After all, for a late bloomer, Stephen has managed to do quite well for himself with such an undefeated streak, especially how he is one of the least experienced people with the chance to walk out FSW Champion…”
With those words trailing out her mouth the Purple Haired Dynamo slowly reaches down for the remote. Gradually lifting the device towards the board on the left she presses a button that replaces the previous video clip with a screenshot from a page on the official EWC website:
FSW CHAMPIONSHIP
With a lineage that already includes EWC Superstars like Derek Wellings, Jason Hunter and Amis Shelton, the FSW Championship has quickly established itself as not only a major championship, but a gateway to bigger things for the breakout competitors of FSW. Want to see the future of wrestling? Keep an eye on this championship.
With a lineage that already includes EWC Superstars like Derek Wellings, Jason Hunter and Amis Shelton, the FSW Championship has quickly established itself as not only a major championship, but a gateway to bigger things for the breakout competitors of FSW. Want to see the future of wrestling? Keep an eye on this championship.
“But does Stephen has any of the qualities any of those three mentioned holders have? Does he have the power and size of Derek? The blood and legacy of Jason? Or even the cunning and intelligence of Amis Shelton? Not sure about the last one but he is definitely lacking in the other two categories. Though even if he had all the qualities of them three – as well as the qualities of every Champion in Extreme Wrestling Corporation history – it’ll still not be enough, nowhere near enough, to be able to defeat us. If EWC’s former Television Champion Ace King couldn’t defeat us six days ago then there is no chance in hell Stephen has in ever even merely hoping to do such a thing in five days’ time.”
With blood covered hands the woman is a seductive teacher uniform leans toward us and move both her bloodied hands. Slowly she reaches out towards us, even stepping around the desk to get closer to us, before suddenly snapping into a complete halt. The only movement that follows this being a slow smirk crackling onto her blood stained face.
“Does it sound like arrogance? Ignorance? An ego trip? Maybe it is…or maybe it could me being confident? Self-assured? Or maybe that, together as one, we know that we have what it takes to leave Hollywood as FSW Champion. For, unlike the previous holder of the belt, we are not so altruistic or ‘a tad too trusting.’
Together we are wise. Together we are strong.
We are vile. We are venomous.
Destructive. Toxic.
Together we are a plague and, no matter how hard he tries, the mere man calling himself Stephen Kingston will simply fall to our outbreak.
For we will survive them all.
We will conquer them all.
We will climb above them all.
And we’ll stand tall as FSW Champion…
And why is that? Why can’t Mister Gully beat us on our worst day? Why won’t Mister Creed succeed at our expense? And why doesn’t Mister Kingston have a prayer of leaving Hollywood with his head held high?”
Her rapidly spoken words suddenly snap off into abrupt silence as with lightning quick reflexes Otaki launches herself at the other board. With so much momentum in fact that she almost found herself headbutting said board. However she manages to stop in time before spinning around to face us in a way that lands her down on one knee as her left hand drifts upwards so that her index finger could point at the letters she written on there a while ago.
“THIS IS WHY!”
Shouts out the Purple Haired Dynamo’s lips as in the very next moment she drops down to both knees and move both her hands to be in front of herself in an almost praying kind of manner.
“Champion. What makes a Champion? Together we support and defend the cause and belief of each other. Together we fight and overcome every rival that stands in our way. And another thing that we have, that nobody that has previously held the Title – let along the three that stand in our way in Hollywood – have…determination and dedication. Our determination is limitless. Our dedication is unprecedented. And we are willing to fight and die over, and over, and over again just for one moment…
One damn moment as FSW Champion. No one that has previously held the belt had the dedication to take the Title to new heights but that is what us martyrs will make bloody sure to do after we finally win it in the middle of the STAPLES Center. Almost like the perfect ending to an old Hollywood blockbuster, the struggler finally turns their life full circle and at last taste the success that has been evading them for so long…
But this ain’t no fairy tale…for this Sunday will consist of three men – Mister Gully, Mister Creed and Mister Kingston – trying to stop our infestation but falling to the endemic known as us martyrs as we not only take the belt that belongs to us, but also infect the entire FSW with OUR PLAGUE!”
Those final two words were screamed out by The Emo Princess as her arms wrap themselves around her short but curvy frame in a python like manner. Sluggishly Otaki makes her way up to her feet before leaning against the classroom door to breath rather raggedly for a few moment before panting quite roughly as she looks over towards us.
“Class dismissed.”
Coldly departs The Highlight of the Night’s lips as in the very next second the door swings open, causing the short woman to fall out of the room. We get up from our seat and rush over to check on the Englishwoman, only to have the door violently slam shut right in front of our face with the handle jammed by, out of all things, a single red rose.
act 2
Breathing deeply, that is best thing to describe what I’m doing as I’m watching some kind of highlight reel of my failures in the past thirteen months. From losing to Amis Shelton in a FSW Championship tournament in Paris France and in a FSW Title contendership match at Rumble at the Bronx to being floored by Spike Doomsday Driver in Saitama Japan and a Dropzone at WrestleFest. All these failures. All these times I’ve let people down, time and time again. All of these have all been my own damn fault. The look of disappointment upon the faces of those who’d spend their money to see me.
I disappointed them.
I failed them.
No one else is to blame.
But me, I and myself alone.
Who’d want to go to FSW to see me win? Who’d be foolish enough to believe in my capability to win against three of FSW’s best. Foolish? More like stupid. Two of the three are undefeated for a reason and the last third is the most dangerous man I’ve faced in a long time. What if I humiliate myself in front of millions? Or worse…get horribly injured? I can’t risk being unable to work, since I need every penny I get to help provide my little Sarah a wonderful fut-
“Mama!”
“Oh, hello dear.”
I quickly answer while using my somewhat quick reflexes to grab the remote and switching off the television.
“I can’t find Sabrina! Have you seen her?”
“No I haven’t dear. Even if I did I wouldn’t tell you, for it is never good to cheat.”
“Fine.”
Aw, my little girl is already adopting my pout very well as she goes around the couch before rushing off upstairs. Only moments later a brown haired girl, who is two years older than my Sarah, pops up from behind a nearby chair with a bright toothy smile.
“Thank you for not telling her Megan!”
“You’re welcome Sabrina.”
“Hey squirt!”
Calls out from the kitchen as immediately emerging from the place is Jericho Agbonlahor. A very old friend of mine, as well as someone I not only consider as a brother I never had – though we were trained together – but also someone I use to have a slight crush on. Considering that he lives in Los Angeles I thought it’d be a good idea to spend a few days here, especially since he has a spare room since getting hooked up with that Mariana girl. Though I will admit to never thinking of him as such a father figure as he ruffles his daughter’s hair.
“Between you and me, that spare room beneath the stairs makes an extra good hiding spot.”
“Thanks daddy!”
Sabrina cheerfully said before speeding off to the room beneath the stairs.
“What a cutie…nowhere near as cute as Sarah though.”
“Let’s agree to disagree there.”
Was his response as, with a chuckle, he sits down beside me while offering me a bottle of beer. Accepting it I take a sip of it before noticing the way he is glancing towards the screen.
“So what do you think of the video I made for you?”
“What is the point of it? Whatever confidence I had has crumbled. What is the point of it?”
“Motivation.”
“How the blooming heck do you think this would motivate me?”
“Don’t you want to prove all those times wrong? Don’t you want to show your worse critics that you have improved since then?”
“Yes I do…”
“Then watch what you’ve done wrong, take note and make damn sure you don’t make such a mistake this Sunday.”
Wait…what? Wow…I’m actually shocked, I honestly didn’t think Jericho would think this much about my match. Usually he’d just say ‘good luck’ or ‘whatever’ and shrug.
“Tha-Thank you for you ad-”
“Not really sure how useful my advice would be…”
He immediately interrupts me, still a rude prick at times I see.
“Since, unlike me, you still hold some kind of joy over being in the ring, and have held gold for longer than fifteen days, but hopefully my advice can be a decent form of gratitude.”
“Gratitude for what?”
“You remember years ago when I had my heart attack? It took me a whole eight months to recover and wrestle again, just like how it took you to win a match, but you’ve been there throughout my recovery – each step of the way – and other than a simple card, and free babysitting, I never properly thanked you. So, if anything, take my – maybe helpful – advice as a form of thank you for your help.”
“Tha-”
“Mama!”
Jesus! Has Sarah learned Shannon secret ninja sneak technique or something?
“I can’t find Sabrina!”
“She’s in the room beneath the stairs.”
“YAY!”
With that gleeful scream my little Sarah springs off towards that room.
“You bastard.”
“You’re not the first or last person to call me that.”
We whisper to each other and chuckle before drinking some more of our beer.
I disappointed them.
I failed them.
No one else is to blame.
But me, I and myself alone.
Who’d want to go to FSW to see me win? Who’d be foolish enough to believe in my capability to win against three of FSW’s best. Foolish? More like stupid. Two of the three are undefeated for a reason and the last third is the most dangerous man I’ve faced in a long time. What if I humiliate myself in front of millions? Or worse…get horribly injured? I can’t risk being unable to work, since I need every penny I get to help provide my little Sarah a wonderful fut-
“Mama!”
“Oh, hello dear.”
I quickly answer while using my somewhat quick reflexes to grab the remote and switching off the television.
“I can’t find Sabrina! Have you seen her?”
“No I haven’t dear. Even if I did I wouldn’t tell you, for it is never good to cheat.”
“Fine.”
Aw, my little girl is already adopting my pout very well as she goes around the couch before rushing off upstairs. Only moments later a brown haired girl, who is two years older than my Sarah, pops up from behind a nearby chair with a bright toothy smile.
“Thank you for not telling her Megan!”
“You’re welcome Sabrina.”
“Hey squirt!”
Calls out from the kitchen as immediately emerging from the place is Jericho Agbonlahor. A very old friend of mine, as well as someone I not only consider as a brother I never had – though we were trained together – but also someone I use to have a slight crush on. Considering that he lives in Los Angeles I thought it’d be a good idea to spend a few days here, especially since he has a spare room since getting hooked up with that Mariana girl. Though I will admit to never thinking of him as such a father figure as he ruffles his daughter’s hair.
“Between you and me, that spare room beneath the stairs makes an extra good hiding spot.”
“Thanks daddy!”
Sabrina cheerfully said before speeding off to the room beneath the stairs.
“What a cutie…nowhere near as cute as Sarah though.”
“Let’s agree to disagree there.”
Was his response as, with a chuckle, he sits down beside me while offering me a bottle of beer. Accepting it I take a sip of it before noticing the way he is glancing towards the screen.
“So what do you think of the video I made for you?”
“What is the point of it? Whatever confidence I had has crumbled. What is the point of it?”
“Motivation.”
“How the blooming heck do you think this would motivate me?”
“Don’t you want to prove all those times wrong? Don’t you want to show your worse critics that you have improved since then?”
“Yes I do…”
“Then watch what you’ve done wrong, take note and make damn sure you don’t make such a mistake this Sunday.”
Wait…what? Wow…I’m actually shocked, I honestly didn’t think Jericho would think this much about my match. Usually he’d just say ‘good luck’ or ‘whatever’ and shrug.
“Tha-Thank you for you ad-”
“Not really sure how useful my advice would be…”
He immediately interrupts me, still a rude prick at times I see.
“Since, unlike me, you still hold some kind of joy over being in the ring, and have held gold for longer than fifteen days, but hopefully my advice can be a decent form of gratitude.”
“Gratitude for what?”
“You remember years ago when I had my heart attack? It took me a whole eight months to recover and wrestle again, just like how it took you to win a match, but you’ve been there throughout my recovery – each step of the way – and other than a simple card, and free babysitting, I never properly thanked you. So, if anything, take my – maybe helpful – advice as a form of thank you for your help.”
“Tha-”
“Mama!”
Jesus! Has Sarah learned Shannon secret ninja sneak technique or something?
“I can’t find Sabrina!”
“She’s in the room beneath the stairs.”
“YAY!”
With that gleeful scream my little Sarah springs off towards that room.
“You bastard.”
“You’re not the first or last person to call me that.”
We whisper to each other and chuckle before drinking some more of our beer.